


Tonitrophobia

by SiriuslySherlocked



Series: Sherlock Is a Real Human Being Unfortunately For Him [5]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Army, Army Doctor John Watson, Borrowing Clothes, But not in a sexual way - Freeform, Comfort, Comforting John, Cute, Fear, Fluff, Just fluff to make you explode with rainbows and unicorns, Kid Mycroft, Kid Sherlock Holmes, M/M, Military, Military John Watson, Mycroft Being a Good Brother, PTSD John, Phobias, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Scared Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes & John Watson Friendship, Sleeping Together, Thunder and Lightning, Thunderstorms, Tonitrophobia, fear of storms, hinted Johnlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-06-03 04:25:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19456315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SiriuslySherlocked/pseuds/SiriuslySherlocked
Summary: Sherlock is actually scared of something.





	Tonitrophobia

For once, the weather forecast was correct in predicting the heavy rain and thunderstorm that was supposed to happen that night. John had insisted they take the day off from their current case, or at the very least, work from home. John was astounded at how remarkably easy it was to convince Sherlock to stay home. He had been prepared to figure out some sort of mechanism to keep Sherlock inside the flat, but it only took a few tries to convince him. Sighing, he collapsed onto his armchair, laptop resting on his knees, typing away at his blog. Sherlock joined him, sitting opposite him on the couch and flipping onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. "It's not even a storm, John," he muttered. "Only rain."  
"Very heavy rain," John added absentmindedly, not looking up from his laptop. "Which nearly always leads to storms." As if waiting for its cue, a roar of thunder so loud it seemed to shake the flat hit their ears. John looked up, startled, and Sherlock visibly flinched from his position on the couch. "Told you," John said, looking back down to his screen.  
"Whatever," Sherlock mumbled, crossing his arms and sighing. It was silent for a while, before a flash of lightening struck their vision, followed by another loud bout of thunder. Sherlock flinched again and squeaked, but John only took a soft, shaky breath. He looked up at the sound of Sherlock's soft squeal of what he presumed to be fright, furrowing his eyebrows. "What?"  
"What, what?" Sherlock replied sharply, as if trying to hide something.   
John shrugged. "Thought I heard you--"  
More thunder interrupted him, somehow even louder than before, and Sherlock tensed up and whimpered a little.  
John stared at him. "Are you..."  
"No!" Sherlock said defensively, glaring at him as he curled himself into a ball on the couch.  
"...Scared?" John finished, raising his eyebrows.  
" _No_ ," Sherlock repeated, gritting his teeth and shutting his eyes at the next sound of thunder.  
"You _look_ scared," John said.  
"Well I'm _not_ ," Sherlock insisted, opening his eyes to glare at him some more.  
"Well then why are you acting like that?" John said, crossing his arms. He already knew. Sherlock was just too prideful to admit it.  
"I'm not acting like anything!" Sherlock whined during another burst of thunder and lightening. He sighed, burying his face in the couch pillow.   
John knelt down beside him. "It's alright if you're scared. I don't think anyone is fully not scared of thunderstorms. Just like I doubt anyone's entirely not afraid of the dark."  
"M'not scared," Sherlock mumbled into his pillow.  
"Stop being so proud and admit it so I can help. I can tell. I used to be afraid of them too, when I was a kid."  
"Exactly!" Sherlock shouted suddenly, looking up at him. "When you were a kid! A _child!_ When it's _normal!"_  
John looked him calmly in the eye. "I still hate them now. They remind me of my time in the army. But I've just learned how to deal with the nerves. Therapy helps--"  
"I'm not going to therapy," Sherlock growled.  
"Well, there are still things you can do to help yourself stay calm--" Once again, the sound of thunder billowing through the room interrupted him, and Sherlock squeaked again, burying his face in John's chest, his chest heaving.  
"It's okay," John said, shutting his eyes to calm his own anxiety. He placed his hand gently on Sherlock's back, letting him know he was there. "It's fine."  
"Easy for you to say," he heard.  
"It's not, Sherlock. It's hard for me too. Like I said, I've just got more experience dealing with it. In the army, you can't be _scared_. I mean, you can't show it. There is no chickening out. You have to put on a brave face and you need to get used to it."  
"Well I've got a reputation to uphold, I can't just be _scared_ either."  
John sighed. "You're missing my point. Look, we're both here, we're both a little scared. We have to be brave. We have to learn so that it isn't hard."  
"I hate being scared," Sherlock said.  
"Doesn't everyone?" John said. "The best thing you can do is try to help yourself."  
The thunder sounded again and Sherlock pressed himself further into John's chest.  
"Do you just want to go to bed?" John asked, his hand sliding back and forth on Sherlock's back.  
"Won't be able to fall asleep," Sherlock mumbled, his voice muffled.  
"Well... maybe... you can..." John trailed off, embarrassed. "Er, sleep... with me...?"  
Sherlock looked up, his face looking as pitiful as a lonely puppy. "With you?" He said softly, his voice shaky.  
John's cheeks were pink. "You don't have to, obviously, I just thought maybe since... nevermind. S-sorry."  
"Okay," Sherlock said, milliseconds before John had finished his sentence.  
John looked at him, looking more stunned than Sherlock had thought there was reason to be. "Er... you do? ...Want to sleep with... me?"  
Sherlock nodded softly. "It... it'll be better with you..."  
"Yeah... I mean, together is better, right?" John said, chuckling nervously.  
"Right..." Sherlock said, sucking on his bottom lip. "Well... the sooner the better, I suppose." He got up abruptly, shuffling toward John's bedroom. He reached to unbutton his shirt, but then pulled his hands away, thinking it was probably going to be awkward enough without being undressed. John entered the room a moment later, looking up at him. "You can... borrow one of my sweaters, if you want to get into something more comfortable," he said, his cheeks still flushed. He decided not to undress either, instead climbing straight into bed, turned away as Sherlock changed his shirt. He soon felt the bed sink down beside him and heard the sound of Sherlock's breathing beside him. The two were quiet until the next flash of lightening and roar of thunder. Sherlock gasped a little and instinctively clutched John's arm.  
"It's okay," John said breathily. "It's okay."  
"Mycroft used to comfort me," Sherlock said softly. "When we were young. I would sneak into his bedroom when there was a storm and I couldn't fall asleep. And I'd sleep beside him, and he'd hold my hand and squeeze it every time there was thunder. And he never fell asleep until I did."  
John smiled, even though he was turned away from Sherlock. "That's sweet. I knew you two loved each other once upon a time."  
"Oh, don't make it sound like a fairy tale," Sherlock said grumpily.  
John chuckled, flipping over so he was facing Sherlock. "Well, we... like each other. As friends. I can be your new source of comfort." He took Sherlock''s hand and squeezed it as another clap of thunder sounded.  
Sherlock tensed at the sound, but relaxed again at the feel of John's hand. "Th-thank you," he whispered shyly.  
John chuckled suddenly, turning his face into his pillow. "Christ. If people saw us now there'd be no turning back from thinking we were a couple."  
"Oh, who cares," Sherlock said, shutting his eyes. "I just want to sleep." He shifted a little closer to John until their knees were brushing against each other, holding tightly onto his hand.  
"Goodnight, Sherlock," John murmured, closing his eyes as well.  
"Goodnight, John," Sherlock replied. At each sound of thunder, they squeezed each other's hand calmly, and that was all it took for the both of them to fall asleep minutes later.


End file.
